{"id":227,"date":"2016-02-05T14:05:35","date_gmt":"2016-02-05T14:05:35","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/davidzarko.us\/WP\/?p=227"},"modified":"2016-02-05T14:07:43","modified_gmt":"2016-02-05T14:07:43","slug":"arlecchino","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/davidzarko.us\/WP\/2016\/02\/05\/arlecchino\/","title":{"rendered":"Arlecchino:"},"content":{"rendered":"

This morning I woke up with what my father used to call \u201ca crick in the neck.\u201d Is that expression still in common use? I have no idea. Part of the reason I have no idea is that I rarely get one \u2013 that is, a crick \u2013 but when I do, I go for broke. It sits exactly at the midpoint of everything. It hurts my neck to yawn, sneeze, swallow, and chew in addition to the usual special effects of neck pain. (You may send your thoughtful cards and gifts to my Italian address.)<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Nothing much helps these things, whatever they’re called. In my experience they generally go away after a few days. Of course, in the meantime I do what I can in the usually vain hope that four days might become three. Walking seemed like a good idea, as it always does. So as it was a pleasant day \u2013 a bit on the chilly side mostly because of the wind, but skies were clear \u2013 walking south on the Anello<\/a> made sense. Contrary to my usual habit, I took the path that seemed to make sense; I headed south on the Anello towards Porta Maggiore.<\/p>\n

\"Arlecchino2\"<\/a>A little park sits to one side of the road between Porta Maggiore and Porta Romana. The road was a project of the nineteenth century, with characteristic\u00a0street lights\u00a0and railings, and is lined with friendly trees. About halfway up the hill towards Porta Romana is a sweet little park with a sweet bronze statue of Arlecchino. I have never heard of a reason for his being there, but he’s good company and I’m grateful to whoever decided a park should be dedicated to a clown in a patched suit. Scattered around Arlecchino are large circular planters (barren this time of year) and park benches. In winter, the benches are perfect for taking the afternoon sun. As far as I’m concerned, that is their only purpose and it is enough.<\/p>\n

The park can be reached by the sidewalks flanking the road, of course, but it also had an access from the escalators that descend from the high town to the parking garage at ex-Campo della Fiera. The escalators only run at certain, specific and \u2013 to an outsider’s eyes \u2013 rather peculiar hours. When they are moving, they take passengers past an entrance to the little park, which is about half-way down. At some point it was deemed unnecessary; the gate that opens onto the park has been locked, as far as I know, for years.\"Arlecchino<\/a><\/p>\n

I want to argue that. So many things here (and everywhere) are unnecessary, but\u00a0continue to function anyway. Closing the gate to the park’s cliffside door saves no energy or expense that I can tell. The lights behind the gate continue to burn, the escalator continues to move (when it moves at all,) and during warm weather the exhaust fan above the gate continues to turn. My suspicious nature imagines enemies of commedia dell’arte, <\/i>ironically masked, exercising their political clout \u2013 but I have no confirming evidence.<\/p>\n

So today, I sensibly took my sore neck down to the Anello and walked towards the south, the sun, and Arlecchino. I sat on a bench unlikely to fall into shadow. Eyes alternately opening, closing, I stretched my neck ever so gently and baked it in the warmth. Somewhere deep inside my mind a thought attempted to stir. It tried to egg me into action, it chastised my inactivity, shamed my sloth, labored to divert my attention towards worry, need, yearning, and frenzy.<\/p>\n

Poor thought. It failed. I continued to sit in that gentle light, stretching, baking, watching, breathing, for so long a time that I lost track of time. Nothing moved. Not my mind, my body, nor the pain in my neck. Arlecchino stood, I sat, both of us enjoying the sun, neither of us caring what our mental wanderings or imaginations might make of our inactivity.<\/p>\n

\"Arlecchino\"<\/a>Arlecchino has been watching the vast panorama before him day and night for I don’t know how many years. He has become still and quiet, and, as I imagine, has grown more open, alive, and receptive in the process. Arlecchino is my aspiration.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

This morning I woke up with what my father used to call \u201ca crick in the neck.\u201d Is that expression still in common use? I have no idea. Part of the reason I have no idea is that I rarely get one \u2013 that is, a crick \u2013 but when I do, I go for … Continue reading Arlecchino:<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[1],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/davidzarko.us\/WP\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/227"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/davidzarko.us\/WP\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/davidzarko.us\/WP\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/davidzarko.us\/WP\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/davidzarko.us\/WP\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=227"}],"version-history":[{"count":8,"href":"http:\/\/davidzarko.us\/WP\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/227\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":239,"href":"http:\/\/davidzarko.us\/WP\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/227\/revisions\/239"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/davidzarko.us\/WP\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=227"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/davidzarko.us\/WP\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=227"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/davidzarko.us\/WP\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=227"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}